Canadian Photographer working in the US

[StoneNYC]

So what if I take pictures in Canada and bring them back over the border? I'd that intellectual property theft? LOL

What if you bring the negs over and make prints IN Canada? Who owns them then!

Old threads are fun

[Gilby]

If the client is a CDN company, and you are being paid in Canada, but executing work in the US, nothing is required at all.

The same can not always be said in the reverse direction.
I have had American friends turned away at the CDN border even while the client was US based. Does not seem to happen that often, but if you get a border guard with frost bitten and or crusty shorts.....

I agree with that. I was recently turned away from a border crossing because "Canada has their own architectural photographers"; even though I had a contract with a huge US based company that recently opened 100+ stores in Canada. Needless to say, it was a huge, huge financial kick in the gut. Huge. They said that I would never be allowed to do photography in Canada again (after being detained at the border for FOUR hours, in which time they kept my cell phone and went through my e-mails even) because I'd be taking a job away from a Canadian photographer. I asked them why has this never, ever come up once in my years of doing photography in Canada; and they said it should have.. Sigh..

[Drew Bedo]

I generally find that once you know them people are good; government agencies, well they can be another issue...

For purposes of clarity, I use the term government agency, rather than government organization, as it implies something that it may be totally lacking...

I usede to work for the Veeren's Administration here in the USA, doing diagnostic imaging with isotopes. Those of us who came in early and stayed late when needed made a distinction between the terms "Government Employee" and "Government Worker".

[Fred L]

I wouldn't let this stand and would suggest taking this further up the ladder as it doesn't sound right. If it's anything like Canadians working across the border, then you should have been able to do likewise, if your client was a US company and you were being paid by same company in USD.

My last visit to the US and the border agent was very interested in how much US money I had ($15 or so), who owned the car (it was company vehicle) etc.. Cross into the US (or Canada) with a thick wad of cash and red flags will pop up all over the place.

[Racer X 69]

Cross into the US (or Canada) with a thick wad of cash and red flags will pop up all over the place.

You are required to declare any funds of $10,000 or more when crossing the US/Canada border.

[Racer X 69]

What's with all these old threads being dug up the last couple days? This one is 2 years old and I just saw a thread that's almost 7 years old.

Nostalgia?

[Racer X 69]

I've gone through hell sometimes just to get across the border.
I'm a little dark, and I have some strange stamps on my passport, so I expect a few extra questions at every border crossing. But I still found the border guards on the US side unusually hostile, insulting and patronizing.
And talk about protectionism!

I got turned away at the Canadian border once, US client. I am probably on some BS list but I really couldn't care less. I have no desire to visit Canada again, honestly nothing personal to any Canadians. My experience (aside from that one) is that I have been harassed more by my own government than by any other at a border. Funny how that has been.

I cross the US/Canada border frequently, mostly for business, but occasionally for "pleasure".

When I am working it is driving a truck. The freight is always pre-cleared by a customs broker, and I have yet to get pulled aside for a secondary inspection.

Most of the time I am moving commodities Northbound into Canada, and the crossing usually takes less than a minute. I pull up to the booth, hand the person my manifests, there are usually one or two questions, the documents are stamped and handed back to me and off I go.

Getting back into my own country on the other hand sometimes proves to be a major pain.

I move loads on flatbed trailers, so the freight is visible, and most of the return trips to the US have my trailer empty. Coming back from Saskatoon, SK for instance, I had crossed North at Sweetgrass, MT and was returning through the same crossing.

I pull up to the booth, hand the guy my enhanced Washington state driver's license, and he asks for my birth certificate and passport, and shipping papers. I tell him I just handed him the enhanced license which has the birth certificate and other information about me on the RFID chip embedded into it, and tell him that I am empty so I have no manifests.

He repeats his request, and also asks me what I am hauling.

I look around behind me at the empty flatbed trailer then look him square in the eye and tell him my trailer is empty, and he has the enhanced license in his hand which should provide all the information he requires.

He repeats himself and I do the same, two or three times. He finally asks the other usual questions, how long have I been in Canada, do I have anything to declare, etc.

He then hands me a slip of paper and my license, then points to a building big enough to drive a truck into and directs me there. I ask him what the building is and he says it is for the x-ray.

X-ray?

These dopes are going to x-ray an empty flatbed trailer?

What the Hell do they expect to find?

The damn thing is empty for Chrissake!

So I dutifully pull into the door of the building, and another US Customs and Border Patrol agent takes the slip the last one gave me. Now at the Blaine crossing from Surrey, BC the US Customs folks have an x-ray setup where you park and exit the truck and trailer, and the x-ray machine moves on a track the length of the rig and back. But at Sweetgrass Montana, well they probably don't have the funding that Blaine does, because the x-ray setup there is mounted on a truck, with a boom that is extended out so you have to drive slowly under and through the outstretched boom.

And it is parked inside a pole barn sort of building.

So this guy tells me to watch the signal light (the same kind of light that you would see at an intersection on the street). He says when the light turns green I am to move forward as slowly as I can, and when the light turns red I am to stop.

Meanwhile he is inside of a lead lined booth so the radiation doesn't threaten his future generations.

OK.

So the light turns green and I proceed forward.

The light turns red and I stop.

Then this guy comes running out of the booth all pissed off and yelling at me. Apparently I stopped at the wrong time. Well I stopped when the light turned red just like he told me.

So I have to go around and do it again.

But wait, while we have been screwing around wasting taxpayer money x-raying an empty flatbed trailer, it seems that the guy at the first booth has sent every truck that has come through behind me to the x-ray too. Maybe they just bough the thing and because it is new they are like boys with a new toy.

But I digress.

So I manage to get 75 feet of truck and trailer turned around, drive against the flow of traffic and find the end of the line. Of course this is no easy task, as border crossings are designed to be a generally one way affair, and big trucks are, well they are big.

After waiting in line a second time I finally have my second chance at overexposure to x-rays, and this time it apparently goes well, and the Angry Border Patrol Agent gives me yet another slip, and points to a gate.

So I make my way to the gate, where a morbidly obese Border Patrol Agent is sitting half in and half out of his white and green Border Patrol pickup, eating a doughnut. I reach out to hand him the slip, and this fat, lazy assed waste of flesh shakes his head and points to a device where I now see that there is a slot I assume is supposed to be where I insert the slip and then gate will open.

But of course it is not high enough to reach from the seat of my truck, so I must take it out of gear, set the brakes, unbuckle my seat belt, then climb out of the truck, walk over to the thing and stick the slip in it so the gate will open, then climb back into the truck, buckle my seat belt, release the brakes, put the thing in gear, ease out the clutch and leave.

Oh, and by the time I do all this the gate has come back down.

So I look at the Grossly overweight Border Patrol Agent with jelly doughnut stains on his shirt and powdered sugar on his chin, I look at the gate, then I look at him and shrug.

He begrudgingly gets his fat, lazy ass of the seat of his pickup and waddles over to the thing, pecks away at a keypad and the gate opens up.

I leave.

It took over 2 hours for me to cross back into my own country in an empty truck.

This is typical of my return trips from Canada. It seems that coming back to my own country is a thousand times more difficult that leaving it.